


Dova Halls

by NoSarcasmForYou



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Embedded Images, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 01:58:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19347235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoSarcasmForYou/pseuds/NoSarcasmForYou
Summary: Inspired by one of the craziest and most exciting moments in my current Skyrim play through.





	1. Introduction

I'm very new in the fandom, since I started playing Skyrim just last year on my Switch.

I loved the game so much I actually went ahead and purchased a PC in order to play the game with mods and ever since I did it, I've been having the time of my life.

I had so much fun with something that happened yesterday that I decided to write a fic about it, both to relive the experience and to thank  **Nesbit098** for creating one of the mods that made this possible. The People of Skyrim is hardly the only mod that made this particular adventure possible, but it  _did_ happen in a custom location added by that mod, one I wasn't even aware existed, so I just had to credit them for making this happen. 

 

* * *

 

 

For context, my current character is with Himilce Wicksmith, a young Breton treasure hunter that left High Rock in search for riches.

She's not the Dovahkiin. She's just a very talented conjurer that ventured into Skyrim with hopes of creating her own noble house from scratch.

She  _is_ a Thane in Markarth (which explains Argis' presence) and owns land in Falkreath Hold, but her goals are limited to getting rich and not dying in the process. 

 

I might write more about her adventures if the inspiration strikes. 

 

* * *

 

 

The crew: 

 

 

 


	2. Cowardice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Himilce was sure she was going to die.

Everything had gone to Oblivion in the most spectacular way possible, and for the first time since she had arrived in Skyrim, Himilce was sure she was going to die.

It happened, like so many other things in that cold and awful land, without any warning.

One moment they were walking past some weird Dwemer ruins on their way to Markarth, the other they were running for their lives.

Two dragons.

Not one, but two deadly flying lizards descended upon them without so much as a growl; Fire and frost were raining upon them like something out of her worst nightmares, splitting the group before they managed to organize themselves.

It was bad enough that she lost sight of Argis and Vorstag –her only real defenses– but she had also lost track of Marcurio too!

Worst of all, she had no idea where M'dasha went, and that was the thing that scared her the most.

She had met the young Kajhiit on her way to the ruins and had promised him a home. Now, because she had been too prejudiced to leave him alone in Vindrell Hall with all of her hard-looted money, she had only succeeded in leading him to his death.

'Stupid! Stupid!' The thought flashed through her mind as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her over old stone bridges in her desperate attempt to find a place to hide.

Trying the ruins was useless; she knew that much. She had spent an entire day trying to find her way in –much to Argis' chagrin a Vorstag's delight– and had failed completely; Now, her only hope for survival was finding a place where she could stay out of sight like the coward she was.

"Yes!" She exclaimed to herself as she spotted her salvation, a small space between the ground and one of the stone bridges.

It was a tight fit, even for a Breton as small as herself, but it was better than nothing.

The moment she allowed herself to rest –a much easier task now that she wasn't actively running away from a dragon– guilt overwhelmed her.

She had left her group to fend off for themselves while she ran away like a scared Skeever.; She had left behind her friends and her husband in a moment of panic, and now they were all dead.

'No' She thought, forcing herself to push the guilt away. 'You're not armored, and you don't know how to fight. You're not a warrior.'

...That much was true. Countless times she had been shoved behind her Nords to keep her out of harm's way and to give her a chance to do what she did best.

Not once had they complained. Not once had they asked her to face off enemies who could kill slice her in half without breaking a sweat.

In fact, the only time she had attempted to do so –Shielding Argis and herself against a Hagraven with a measly ward– she had received the scolding of her life.

No, she was no warrior, and  _that_ was her strength.

Now that she was thinking clearly, she could pay attention to the fight around her. She couldn't see a thing, but she could listen and what she heard raised her spirits.

The dragons were still there, but so were the others. Otherwise, the dragons would've left.

Invigorated by the knowledge, she focused on doing what she did best, conjuring not one but two Flame Atronachs to join the fray. They wouldn't be enough to defeat the dragons, but with some luck, they could help turn the tide.

Himilce waited a few seconds more before crawling out of her hiding spot to see what was going on.

Just as she had intended, the Atronachs were keeping one of the dragons busy, while the other was somewhere above the ruins, entertained by one or more of her companions.

Now all she needed to do was join them without catching the attention of the dragons.

Easy.

Staying close to the ground, she first put some distance between her and the ruins to get a good look at the place; As she had expected the ruins offered plenty of hiding spots, but unlike other Dwemer ruins, this one had plenty of uncovered bridges, which made traversing the structure without being noticed a lot harder.

Not so easy then.

Drawing a deep breath, the Breton prayed to whatever Aedra or Daedra was listening, and ran towards the ruins.


	3. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Equilibrium was a tricky spell meant only for the most powerful and talented of mages, which she most definitely was not.

The first person she saw was, unsurprisingly, the mountain of a man she called a husband; Argis was facing one of the dragons head on, using both his shield  _and_ the Dwemer architecture to keep the beast at a distance.

A flash of gold revealed Vorstag not too far away, taking any opening the dragon offered to drive his greatsword into the beast.

The two Nords fought like one, each one blocking while the other was attacking, never letting the dragon have a moment of rest.

While she couldn't see him, the barrage of firebolts smashing against the dragon's hide betrayed Marcurio's presence; The Imperial was giving it his all, using the covered areas of the building to his advantage.

Her eyes darted from one side of the ruins to the other as she tried to find M'dasha, but she couldn't find him before the flapping of giant winds caught her attention.

She didn't think, didn't even made a sound, just threw herself off the bridge, avoiding the column of fire so narrowly she could feel it singing her skin. Seconds later, cold water was filling her lungs as her body crashed into the river under the structure.

The water had looked peaceful from above but clearly that had only been an illusion. The current was strong enough to carry her if she stopped fighting, so Himilce started swimming, trying her best to stay under the stone bridge without splitting her head open on the structure.

She failed – Or at least, she thought she had.

Himilce wasn't sure what she hit at first, only that she had swum head first into something hard. Something was protruding from the bridge's underside. Something made with stone and metal.... was that a chest?

It was!

Marcurio liked to say that she had a nose like a bloodhound for valuable things and that it was precisely that nose that had led her to him.

While she always rolled her eyes at that self-aggrandizing joke, she couldn't help but to laugh this time; In the middle of all that chaos and the unlikeliest of places, she had found a treasure chest and a lifeline.

Clinging to the chest like a babe to its mother to keep herself from being dragged by the current, she tried the lock.

It was locked.

Letting out a little hysterical laughter, she clung to the chest with her legs and patted her pockets in search of a lockpick. The way she saw it, that chest was put there by whichever deity she ended up praying to and letting it go unopened would be spitting on the face of her-would be-savior.

It was that, or the stress had made her finally lose her mind.

Either way, she was going to open that lock or die trying.

It took a lot of tries –and a lot of swallowed water– but she finally, finally, managed to get the chest unlocked and the cover open juuuuust enough for her to wiggle her hand inside and close it around a... by Mara! Was that a key?!

There was no certainty that the key could get them into the ruins. Come to think of it; there was no certainty that the ruins were safer than the dragons to begin with, but she'd be a fool not to at least try, and Himilce Wicksimth was anything but a fool.

Holding the key between her teeth to make sure it didn't slip away, she clung to the side of the bridge and drew herself onto it a grunt, half expecting to be turned into ashes for her trouble. The dragon had lost interest in her, however, and was now teaming with his buddy against her friends.

That wouldn't do.

Himilce judged her options. She needed to distract at least one of those dragons, keep it entertained long enough for her to make her way to the entrance and try the key; If that worked, she needed to distract the second dragon long enough for her followers to, well, follow, and she needed to do all that without being seen.

Not giving herself the chance to think about the door not opening, she sprinted uphill, throwing spells left and right.

Once again, the Flame Atronachs started attacking the dragons the moment they were conjured, recognizing them as the biggest threat at the moment. This time, however, she made damn sure to conjure them in two completely different areas to make things a little harder for whichever dragon chose to target them.

She kept running.

A large shadow covered her, and she threw herself against a wall until it flew past. Two frantic heartbeats later, she was running uphill again, both hands crackling with electricity as she threw lightning bolts at the remaining dragon, which seemed too injured to fly and was trying instead to do as much damage as possible by trashing and lashing out.

The sight of half a dozen arrows embedded on the creature's hide was evidence that M'dasha was still alive and fighting, a realization that invigorated her and helped her push past the throbbing in her lungs and her pounding head.

She kept running.

Himilce made it to the door just as she was about to collapse, spat the key into her hand and immediately went for the lock. It took her far too many tries to get the key in place, but the satisfactory clicking the lock made when she turned it made up for it a thousandfold.

"Everyone! Get here!" She yelled, throwing herself at the heavy metal doors to open them. "Get your asses here!"

Getting past an enraged dragon was, of course, easier said than done and while she could see both Marcurio and M'dasha making their way to her, Argis and Vorstag were still trapped between a dragon and a hard place.

She didn't have the energy to run anymore, and her magic pools were dangerously depleted, so she took a deep breath and concentrated on casting a different spell.

Equilibrium was a tricky spell meant only for the most powerful and talented of mages, which she most definitely was not; She had /a lot/ of magic, that much was true, but she was weak and tired quickly, which meant there was a genuine danger she'd kill herself before she managed to recover even half of her magic.

She did it regardless.

Thunderbolt after thunderbolt smashed against the dragon's bloodied hide until the creature could no longer ignore them. With a roar, the dragon pushed itself away from the structure and lifted itself into the air, or attempted to.

It was, indeed, too injured to fly, but it still managed to perch itself on top of the structure.

The new position kept it away from the Nords, which  _had_ been her initial goal, but it also put it in the perfect position to attack  _her_ which she didn't realize until a column fire was hurling towards her.

Marcurio got there first.

The Imperial tackled her to the ground and cast a large ward above them just in time to keep them both from being turned into charred meat. He then half crawled, half dragged her deeper into the structure, putting as much distance between them and the enraged beast as possible.

Though she couldn't see much from her spot on the ground, the clanking of metal announced the arrival of at least one of her Nords, and soon after, darkness enveloped them as the doors closed.


	4. Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can rest later, " Argis said, his voice as tired as M'dasha's "Right now we need to see where we're going."

"Do you think it can bring down the door?" Vorstag asked from somewhere to her left, though she didn't feel like moving to try and find him in the darkness.

The fact that not a single torch had been lit or a candlelight spell cast revealed just how tired the group was — each member choosing to rest and listen to the dragon raging outside and throwing firebolt after firebolt at the metal doors.

"Best not to stay and find out," Argis answered, and his gruff voice caused her chest to swell in relief. "We should get going. Can everyone move?"

"This one can." Answered M'dasha, his voice tiny and exhausted but very much there.

"I can, just-" Himilce shoved at Marcurio's chest to get the Imperial to move, which he did with a scoff and a whiny 'You're welcome' much too exaggerated to be real. He was glad to be alive; she could hear it in his voice.

"I just need a second." She explained, pushing herself into a sitting position. She had exhausted everything she had ensuring their escape, and as the adrenaline wore off, she was starting to pay the price. "Just one second."

She didn't get any, a large hand grasped her by the back of her robes and lifted her to her feet, moving to rest on the small of her back in case she needed the help.

"You can rest later, " Argis said, his voice as tired as M'dasha's "Right now we need to see where we're going."

He was right, and she knew it, but she couldn't help sticking her tongue out at him under cover of darkness before forcing herself to cast a candlelight spell.

It took a couple of tries (Marcurio seemed to be having the same issue), but eventually, a small light illuminated the area they were standing in.

It was a small hallway, barely big enough to hold all five of them and devoid of any decorations but for the small and surprisingly well-preserved stone table by the corner that held a couple of candles and a jewel, which she promptly pocketed.

They started walking with Argis at the helm, his considerable bulk keeping her away from any surprise attacks but also blocking her view; Not that it mattered, what she could see was pretty much identical to what she had seen in every other Dwemer ruin... except nothing seemed particularly ruined about that one.

No stray cogs, no destroyed mechanical spiders, no rubble. The place was as good as new, and that put her in high alert the way no ruin had done before.

The hallway led to a close gate behind which she could see a vast chamber. Himilce half expected the door to be locked or rust shut, but it wasn't either of those things. It glided open after Argis gave it a push, allowing the group to move deeper into the building.

Past the strange Dwemer pipes and machinery, the chamber revealed itself to be–

"This is someone's home," Marcurio said, voicing her thoughts before she could manage to do it.

He was right, of course. The building was not only immaculate but also seemingly inhabited, with burning torches and fire pits creating a warm and toasty ambient, and with lovingly crafted decor scattered all over the place.

She could even see two open doors in the distance, and what seemed like a bed, the sight of which made a tiny laugh bubble in her chest.

"This is a miracle," She said, beelining past Argis straight into the open room, or at least trying to, as the Nord's hand closed around her upper arm and stopped her in her tracks.

"This could be a trap," He explained, glaring down at her in a way that made it clear he thought she was acting stupidly.

"Then consider this one trapped," M'Dasha said as he sped past them, too enthralled by the possibility of a nap to think about the consequences.

He wasn't the only one, either. Vorstag had his sword drawn but was paying more attention to a well-preserved Dwemer centurion than to any possible ambush.

Even Marcurio had given up on any pretense of being on guard and was instead leaning over a table, inspecting a large open book. The Imperial did have the decency to shrug and look somewhat apologetic when he caught Argis glaring.

"We made a lot of noise when we came in," He offered as his only explanation before directing his attention back to the book. "The place is empty. At least for now."

"That...is a good point," Argis admitted releasing Himilce with a tired sigh. Though he was still suspicious about such a convenient place even existing, he had no admit the likelihood of an ambush was too small for it to happen.

The Breton wasted no time in joining M'dasha in the bedroom. It too was spacious and well decorated, with two large beds pressed against the walls of the room and a huge wardrobe taking over the rest of the space.

The Khajiit's weapons and most of his armor were on the floor next to one of the beds, and the cat was already half-asleep on the mattress; She could now see that some of his fur was singed and burnt, but the kid looked mostly unharmed.

Still, she promised herself to check him – and the others– for injuries in a few hours, once she had enough energy to do something about it.

Kicking off her boots, she climbed on the bed and laid down next to M'dasha, pressing herself as close to the cat as humanly possible, both as a way to comfort the kid and leave enough space on the bed in case her husband decided to join them.

As she was drifting off, which happened almost the moment her head hit the pillow, she made a mental note to return the jewel she had pocketed before leaving and making sure no one took anything with them on their way out.

This house, whoever it belonged to, had saved their lives. The least they could do was leaving it the same way they found it.

 


End file.
